


Going Nowhere

by wednesdays__child



Series: Mad World [2]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7819126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdays__child/pseuds/wednesdays__child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron and Spencer deal with the consequences of the night before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to No Tomorrow.  
>    
> Title from the song Mad World by Gary Jules.
> 
> Unbetaed...sorry.

_People say, we'd rather have something than nothing at all. Truth is, to have something halfway is harder than having nothing at all. - Unknown_

Aaron Hotchner woke, groaning softly as he stretched on the unfamiliar surface, realizing it was may be one of the worst surfaces he'd slept on in a very long time. As he stretched to move out from under the too warm blankets, he groaned at the ache in his body. Slowly, as he began to wake, he began to remember the night before; Spencer getting bad news, needing to release his frustration and using Hotch's body as a punching bag to make that happen.

He grabbed his go bag on the way to the bathroom, intent on taking a nice, long, hot shower to release the ache and tension in his sore muscles. Letting the water cascade down his body, he slowly washed as he thought over the night before. Spencer was a mystery to him; smart but seemingly so innocent, tortured but still so hopeful. Hotch wanted to be able to help take away at least some of his pain, if only he could figure out how.

After he had stepped out of the shower and towelled off, he stared at his reflection in the steamy mirror. Bruises littered his torso, some darker than others, but all unmistakably made by fists. He looked at his face and considered not shaving for a moment, wondering if the stubble would make the livid bruise on his jaw less noticeable. That thought was quickly pushed aside as he realized that him not shaving would probably be more shocking than the bruise.

He completed his daily routine before he stepped out of the bathroom engulfed by a billow of steam in just his trousers and undershirt. He walked down the hall and stopped in shock at the sight before him.

"Spencer?" he asked, disbelief tainting his voice, "Are you eating Nutella from a spoon straight out of the jar for breakfast?!"

"What?" the younger man asked, his mouth full of chocolatey, hazel-nutty goodness. "It's the breakfast of champions. Besides, I made coffee."

Hotch worked hard to hide his smile, obviously failing by the look on Spencer's face. "How have you survived on your own this long?" he muttered under his breath as he stalked toward the smiling man. He pulled the spoon out of the younger agent's hand before putting the lid back on the jar and placing it back in the cabinet. "Get ready to go and I'll find something to fix for breakfast."

"Hotch," Spencer started, before the Unit Chief stopped and stared at him, "Sorry - Aaron. You don't have to do that."

"I know," Aaron answered. "But I'm hungry after last night and I'm not stopping at some crappy fast food place on the way into the office. Now go." Aaron motioned down the hallway, watching as the young man slowly made his way toward the bedroom. He turned then to open the refrigerator and gasped at what he saw. "Jesus, Spencer!" he called loudly. "No wonder you're so skinny!"

He chuckled as he heard a muffled Sorry travel down the hallway as he began pulling out some supplies to make something for the two men for breakfast. He found some fresh, ready to cook tortillas from a local Mexican restaurant, a carton of spicy fried rice from the Chinese restaurant close to Quantico and half a dozen eggs. There was a little bit of cheese that had somehow managed to not be moldy and some frozen edamame in the freezer. By the time Spencer was done with his shower, Aaron had cooked up breakfast burritos for the both of them.

"Holy cow, Hotch!" Spencer exclaimed as he took a huge bite of his burrito. "This is amazing! I didn't even know you could do this. I should keep you around more often. You make a great wife."

"I do look good in an apron and heels."

Spencer snorted in laughter so hard that he nearly sucked a soybean up his nose. Once he was able to talk again, Spencer said, "No one would believe it."

Aaron smirked around his mouthful of burrito. "What? That I look good in an apron?"

"No," the younger man repled as he dropped his head, "That you have such a great sense of humor."

Hotch froze at that. Did he think that? Did they all think that? Sure he had become more serious over the years, he'd had to with all they had been through, but he still had a good sense of humor. At least he thought so. It was drier than most - it certainly wasn't like he told jokes and everyone would laugh out loud - but he'd figured that at least Spencer would have noticed it. Was he really that different, that closed off?"

"Hotch?" he heard whispered, breaking him out of his swirling thoughts.

"Sorry, Reid," he replied, clearing his throat as he took another bite of his burrito. "Are you about ready to go?"

As he moved to walk past the younger agent, he froze when he felt a soft hand on his bicep. 

"Aaron," Spencer started, "I didn't mean..."

"It's okay, Reid," Aaron interrupted, nearly flinching at how not okay he sounded, "I get it." 

Silence settled between them for a minute while they finished their breakfasts before Hotch winced as he smiled, pulling lightly on the split in his lip. "Okay, ouch. Did you come up with anything to explain this yet?"

"Easy. Tell them the truth."

Hotch snorted softly. "That simple? Just tell them that I let you beat the snot out of me?"

"That simple," Spencer smiled, his face beaming with mirth. "I mean, seriously, who would believe it? It's so out there that It'll have everyone guessing. Too bad Derek's not still here. The suspense would kill him."

Aaron laughed at that as he stepped over to the sink to start cleaning up.

"Don't do that," Spencer said as he tried to pull Hotch away from the sink. "You cooked. I'll clean."

Aaron turned around, the dimple revealing smile on his face. "I got it. Just completing my wifely duties."

A small argument ensued as the two men tried to decide who was going to be the more bullheaded over the cleaning duties. Finally, they came to a joint decision that Spencer would wash and Aaron would dry. Once everything was washed and put away, Reid turned toward the older man. "So? You okay? I hope I didn't hurt you too bad."

"I'll survive, but thanks for asking," Aaron replied. Somehow they had managed to move in closer invading each others personal space. He knew he needed to step away before he did something stupid. "We'd better get going or we'll be late to work."

"Oh, of course," Spencer whispered as he stepped away. Aaron thought maybe he'd heard a hint of disappointment in his voice. But that couldn't be true. He'd imagined it. He had to have because Spencer was smiling that amused smile at him. "Don't want the boss to get mad at us."

*************

The day went better than Aaron had expected. Everyone had gawked at him when he entered the office, gasps sounding loud in the quiet bullpen. When JJ ran up and asked what happened, Aaron answered just as Spencer had suggested. Everyone had laughed and asked for the real reason. When Aaron kept up the story, they all walked away, speculating what Hotch could have done to hurt himself like that. All except Dave, who just shook his head as he walked past the Unit Chief toward his own office.

The day went by slowly, Aaron caught up on his work, wondering what they were going to do now, how they would replace Morgan, how they would all move forward from here.

The day had ended for everyone except for Aaron and Spencer. With the bullpen empty, the younger agent made his way to Aaron's office. He waited until Spencer sat in the chair directly in front of his desk before looking up into the expressive hazel eyes. 

"Everyone kept asking me what really happened to you today," Spencer started. "How about you?"

"Everyone asked except for Dave. I think he knows something is up."

Spencer chuckled. "He always does."

They both laughed a little before Spencer continued, "Are we okay?"

Aaron was honestly shocked at the question. "Of course we are, Reid. Why wouldn't we be?"

"Well, it was a little weird. I'm not wrong thinking it was a little weird, right?"

Hotch smiled at the slightly distressed agent. "Yes, I suppose it was a little weird. But it's okay. I'm glad I could help. I'm sorry it took me so long to be there for you. Just promise me if you need help again, you'll let me know."

"Only if you promise to do the same."

"Deal."

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Spencer stood and moved to leave the office. Before he could exit, he turned and asked, "Is your offer to go with me to Nathan's funeral still stand?"

"Of course."

"Saturday. Just a simple service but Nathan's mom called me. You know, if you don't mind."

Aaron smiled. "I don't mind, Spencer. When should I be ready?"

"One o'clock? Service start at 3."

"Can I pick you up?"

"Sure." Spencer stood and waited, as if he thought there was more to say. "I'll see you then, Hotch. Don't be all night."

"I won't." And then Spencer was gone and Hotch was left with his files, the face of Peter Lewis staring back at him from the corner of his desk.

*************

The service was small and understated, not really a funeral at all. Sarah Harris had thanked them for coming, greeting Spencer with a hug and smile. There had been less than a dozen people total in attendance and Aaron wondered how a man so young could have his life broken down to so few people coming to say their final farewells. They didn't stay long, but Spencer felt the need to go and say goodbye so Aaron decided to let the other decide when he was ready to go.

Once they were back in Aaron's vehicle, he turned to look to the younger man. "How are you doing?"

"It hurts," Spencer whispered, his voice low and broken. "It hurts but I'll be fine. I'm glad I got to say goodbye. And thank you."

"Of course," Aaron answered softly. "Hungry?"

"So hungry. Do you mind?"

Hotch chuckled lightly. "I don't mind at all. What do you feel like?"

"Chinese. Funerals always make me want to eat Chinese."

"Chinese it is, then."

*************

Dinner was an easy affair. Hotch let Reid ramble on about just about any and all topics the younger man was interested in, from the origins of fortune cookies to the estimate of the running times for the Lord of the Rings movies if they were completely true to the source material. Aaron found himself smiling more than he thought possible; the conversation, company and food pleasing after a rough day.

Once he'd pulled up to Spencer's apartment complex, the younger agent turned and smiled at him.  
"Want to come up for coffee?"

"Sure," Hotch replied with a smile. "Why not?"

They laughed and chatted the entire way up the stairs to the apartment. Hotch felt good. Despite the sadness of the day, spending time with Spencer like this just felt good. The younger man lead him inside, directing Aaron toward the couch as he slipped into the kitchen. 

"Have a seat," Spencer called out. "It's not too late for full caf, is it? I don't do decaf."

Hotch snorted lightly. "Really, Spencer? You wound me. Decaf is like masturbating with an oven mitt!"

Spencer's head popped out of the kitchen, shock covering his face. "Excuse me?"

"Robin Williams," Hotch supplied. "I can't believe you've never heard that before."

Spencer laughed long and hard. It was a good sound. A sound Aaron longed to hear more often. "I don't know what shocks me more. The fact that you know a quote from Robin Williams or that you just so casually tossed out the word masturbate."

Hotch just shook his head as Spencer ducked back into the kitchen. Once the younger man reappeared with a cup of hot coffee in each hand, Hotch replied, "I'm seriously starting to think that you all just assume I'm an inhuman, emotionless android or something. I do watch movies and I am familiar with masturbation. I am human after all."

It wasn't until he saw the shocked look on Spencer's face that he realized what he'd just said. He felt his cheeks heat up as dipped his head to take a sip of his coffee. It was good, deep and rich and bursting across his tongue. He hummed lightly before looking up at a still shocked Spencer. 

Finally, Reid broke the silence. "I guess we do all forget that. You just always seem so...I don't know...Hotch-like."

Aaron frowned at that. He didn't want any of them to think that he was this inhuman, impenetrable person. "I'm sorry if I've been so distant. This - all of this - has been hard."

He looked up, shocked, when he felt a warm hand land on his knee. Spencer had moved in, sitting closer than he'd realized. 

"No, Hotch. It's our fault. You can't do everything alone. You shouldn't have to. It's not fair to you. You don't let us do everything alone, not any more."

Soft fingertips reached up and slowly brushed over his bruised jaw. It looked much better but it still stung when he forgot about it and moved in a way he knew would stretch the damaged area. Warm, caring eyes gazed into his own, pulling him in despite all he wanted to fight it. He darted forward, feeling the soft lips brushing against his own. He lost himself in the feeling - gentle and sweet - wanting to press in further, take and give, until he felt a strong hand, no longer encouraging, but pressing insistently against his shoulder, forcing him away.

"Hotch, wait, please," Spencer gasped, a slight panic to his voice. 

"What?" Aaron asked, confused by the sudden change. 

"I can't...I can't do this."

Suddenly embarrassed and ashamed, Hotch stood quickly, spilling some of his coffee down his front. "I should go."

"Wait, I said," Spencer insisted, grabbing the older agent by the arm, stopping him for running away. "We need to talk."

"What is there to talk about, Reid?" he asked, louder and little more frantic than he wished to sound. "I kissed you and you didn't want it. Are you going to file charges, because you could, you know?"

"Jesus Christ, Hotch! I'm not filing charges. Now sit down so we can talk."

"I don't think I can," Aaron replied, embarrassed by how weak he sounded.

Before he knew it, he found himself led back to the couch and being pressed down into the soft, lumpy cushions. The coffee was removed from his hand and set down on the coffee table before them.

"It's not that I didn't want you to kiss me," Reid started, his gaze steadfastly remaining on his clenched hands. "I think it was kind of evident from the other night that I am attracted to you. But some of that could easily be explained by the adrenaline rush of the fight. It's not unusual for the male body to automatically react to the increased testosterone, adrenaline and elevated heart rate resulting in an erection that has less to do with attraction than it does with chemical reaction. Even rape victims can..."

"I know that, Spencer!" Aaron snapped, probably harsher than he intended, interrupting the genius' rambling for the first time of the entire day. Of course he knew that. When Foyet had - NO! he wouldn't think about that. Not here - not now. Besides, Haley used to accuse him of that, coming home needy or horny after a particularly bad case, thinking that his need for comfort was simply a caveman reaction to the fight, the chase. During the divorce she made sure to let him know just how much she hated it every single time. "You can't really believe that what happened, our reactions, was simply from increased hormone levels."

"No, you're right. I don't think it's simply from that," Spencer replied, his head down, eyes obscured by a curtain of unruly hair. "But I can't do this. _We_ can't do this. You're my boss. I'm your subordinate. We could get in trouble. We can't risk it."

Hotch sat in stunned silence. It made sense, sure it did. But there were ways around things like that, weren't there? Dave and Erin had happened, everyone knew about them, but no one did anything about it. Why couldn't he and Spencer find a way? They could be discreet. They could keep business and pleasure separate, couldn't they? There had to be a way.

"I've already thought about all of that. Don't you think I would have thought of every possible permutation?"

Aaron stared in shock at Spencer answering him, unaware that he had even spoken aloud. "You've really thought about this?"

Spencer smiled, soft and sad. "I have. I like you, Hotch. I like that our friendship is growing. I hope we can get back to where we used to be, possibly be even more. But it can't be any more than that. I like my job. I love what I do. I don't want to lose that. Can you understand that?"

Could he understand that? Of course he could understand that. The BAU was his life. He'd lost everything for his career - his wife, his home, friends and now, maybe even his son. So why did this hurt so bad.

"I understand, Reid," he was able to get out despite his throat constricting so tight he thought he might choke. "And you're right. I just lost my head. Can you forgive me?"

Spencer smiled a real smile then, one that nearly tore Hotch's heart in two. "Of course."

Steeling himself and wrapping his stoic Unit Chief mantel around himself, SSA Hotchner stood, looking much steadier than he felt. "Well, it's getting late. I should probably head out. Jessica is bringing Jack home tonight."

"Okay," Spencer said, watching the older man with a critical eye before finally deciding that everything was alright. "Thank you again for going with me today. It meant a lot to me."

"It wasn't a problem, Reid. I'm glad I could be there for you."

He meant it. He honestly did. At least he could do one thing right.

They walked to the door and Reid quietly let him out. "Good night, Hotch."

"Good night, Reid."

He made his way down the stairs by rote before stepping out into the chilly evening air. He walked to his vehicle, refusing to speed up despite his churning stomach that threatened to upend his dinner. He choked it down, not wanted to vomit in the bushes because Reid might see. He didn't know why part of him was hoping Spencer was watching him but he was sure the younger man wasn't. Why would he? He'd made his intensions clear. The job meant more than anything Hotch could ever be. Is this how Haley had felt? 

It felt like shit. 

He took a chance to glance up at the window that he knew belonged to Spencer's apartment, feeling his heart plummet into his belly when no one was standing there, watching him. Why would he? Aaron was old and broken, too old for a young man like Spencer, too broken to fix. He choked back the sob that threatened to escape. He couldn't cry, not here, not now. He had to go to his quiet home made even more quiet by the son that refused to speak to him after everything that had happened. 

He pulled out of the small parking lot, knowing where he was headed but feeling like he was going nowhere.

Just like his life.

Going nowhere. 

_For him it was a dark passage which led to nowhere, then to nowhere, then again to nowhere, once again to nowhere, always and forever to nowhere, heavy on the elbows in the earth to nowhere...and they were both there, time having stopped and he felt the earth move out and away from under them. - Ernest Hemingway, For Whom the Bell Tolls_

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm not dealing with the whole firing situation very well and this fic is feeling it. My muse, Karl, is leaning to the dark side at the moment. I want to give our boys a happy ending. We will see if he agrees with me.
> 
> Also, I have made that breakfast burrito before and it is delicious.
> 
> And thank you to everyone for all the love on No Tomorrow! It really inspired me to keep writing this.


End file.
